big boy bed

In about twenty minutes, the Bear's brand new big boy bed will be delivered.


We hadn't planned to get him a bed quite this soon.  We liked the fact that he is contained in the cot, and that for whatever reason, my climbing monkey hadn't ever thought to climb out of it.


But on Monday night, I made a discovery.


It was about 6pm, and the Bear was in his room.  I thought I'd grab the opportunity to try to read him a story.  (I know, I know, what was I thinking - the Bear doesn't listen to stories.)  I sat down with him on my lap, and read "Each peach pear plum, I spy - Bear, what are you doing?  Come out from under the co..." 


And that's when I saw it.  The base of the cot was sagging, just a bit.  I pulled myself up from the floor, using the cot as leverage in my unfit way, and the base sagged just a wee bit more.  "Oh crap", I thought.  I lifted up the mattress and saw, not a cot base, but a collection of kindling held together by more kindling. "Oh, crappity crap crap crap!", I thought again.  


I can only assume that the Bear had been practising his new-found skill of jumping.  A lot.


So we made a frantic phone call to Aunty S, who lives round the corner, I threw the kids into the car, and we went round to borrow their travel cot.  


By the time we got home, Pacino was home as well.  While the Gig entertained the Bear, Pacino and I effortlessly assembled the travel cot swore, shoved, swore some more, had a tiny tiff, and eventually got the travel cot assembled.


And the next morning, the Bear and I went shopping for a new big boy bed, which has just been delivered as we speak.  I'm not putting it up until Friday, because I need to put the baby gate up at his door first.  Also, the Bear will be at daycare on Friday, and, to be honest, I'd rather not have his help.


A big boy bed.  My little baby Bear.  Excuse me while I cry.

i'm bad, i'm bad, you know it, i'm bad

It would appear that last time I was here, I made all sorts of rash promises about being a better blogger, not leaving all my lovely readers in the dark, committing to the blog, and so on.  Promises, promises.  I guess I am just über-slack.  (But proud that, twenty years later, I remembered to use an umlaut on the u in über.  Frau Finlayson, what was that C all about?)

So what's been happening on board my ship of fools lately?

Well, in no particular order, we bought a new car.  It's a white wagon.  Where has my cool gone?  I love it and its capacious boot (trunk) which has ample room for my stroller, the dogs, and some luggage.

Because we are now a two car family, Pacino (and for Pacino, read ME!!) had to organise a park in the city.  Holy Guacamole Batman, the City Council must be ski-ing in Aspen on what they charge to park a car!  However, we found one that won't require us to sell one of our children in order to pay for it, so it's all good.

The Gig is on school holidays.  Yay for not making school lunches.  Yay for not waking a sleeping pre-adolescent!  Yay for not having that sick, sinking feeling in my stomach as I wait in the car wondering how her day was, and if the mean girls were mean today.

Oh, and the Gig is nearly eleven.  I know what you're thinking.  How on earth, you're wondering, could Millie possibly have an eleven year old daughter?  She's far too young, freshfaced and hip to be old enough for that!  What?  You weren't thinking that at all? 

As for my little Bear, he's doing really well.  He is getting a new word roughly once a fortnight, and appears to be keeping them so far.  He has developed a massive case of Echolalia (repeating random words and noises with no sense of their meaning), which can be, depending on the circumstances and my mood, very funny, very depressing or very annoying.  I try to focus on the fact that it's really very encouraging, as the mere forming of the words shows that the capacity for speech, in whatever form, is there.

He has also developed a few new ASD traits.  This is probably the real reason I haven't been blogging lately.  I just haven't felt ready to talk about it yet, but haven't been able to think of anything else to blog about.  He has started hand-flapping, and also a funny little face-flicking thing that's very hard to describe, and his new obsession is unscrewing jars.  Nothing, nothing, I tell you, is safe from his exploration.  I seem to spend my days now running along behind him trying to clear the path of his destruction.  And he's not a destructive child.  He doesn't break things on purpose; it's more that he literally can't rest until he's explored what he needs to explore.  I am beyond exhausted.

We are waiting desperately for the call to say he has a place at the ASD specific centre.  I can't wait; he really needs it.  I do too, for what it's worth.

Anyway, that's what we've been doing lately.  I'll try to be a better bloggy-girl from now on (but a word of warning - I'll be away towards the end of this week visiting my sister who is about to abandon me move to England with her family. 

Right, I have a whole lot of blog reading to catch up on - I'm looking forward to finding out what's been going on in your lives.  See you later!

flotsam and jetsom, bits and pieces, this and that

Ok, so my rage is ebbing away, slowly being replaced by acceptance.  I'm surprised that the diagnosis affected me so much, because it wasn't like we weren't expecting it.  I think what really got to me was having to talk other people through their own feelings about it, when all I got from anyone was "He's fine, look at so-and-so", or "All two year olds do that, stop worrying", or my all-time favourite "You need to take him to the park more".   For the record, we're at the park a lot!  So now I feel a bit resentful that no one listened to me when I was worried, but now I have to be the one to comfort them after my concerns were proven valid.  Anyway, life goes on.

The Bear is doing brilliantly!  Yesterday at playgroup he put two words together ("More bubbles").  That is the exact phrase we have been working on for three months, so it was very exciting and rewarding to hear him say it.  He also followed two sets of one-step verbal instructions yesterday.  Yay for increasing receptive language!

I've learnt a couple of things already.  One is that I prefer to descibe his condition as "Bear has Autism", rather than "Bear is Autistic".  (No, Bear is Bear, and he has autism.)  First and foremost, he is a beautiful, funny, affectionate little boy who loves the Wiggles and reading Spot books.  Oh, and he has autism.  The other thing I've learnt is how little the PDD-NOS label means, and how seldom we use it any more.  For one thing, no one knows what it is!
Believe it or not, we have a life outside of therapy!  This morning, the Bear and I met his auntie and baby cousin at the park.  We had a great time (sorry, no pics, forgot the camera and didn't have a chance to take any anyway) and can't wait to go back.  Next time, we'll go to a park with a fenced off play area ;-).

The Gig is looking forward to her Guide (Girl scouts) camp in a couple of weeks.  Next term, they're doing outdoor camping, and she really can't wait for that.  She is also giving a speech to her class about autism, as next Friday is Dress Differently for Autism Day, and she wants all her class to join in and help raise money.  I'm beyond thrilled about this, as only a couple of weeks ago she said she was embarrassed that the Bear can't speak, and embarrassed that he has autism, and she didn't want any of her friends to know. 

And Pacino has moved offices, and now has a larger office with a view of the river.  It's amazing how much that's been affecting his mood, and how relaxed he was when I picked him up last night.

So what about me?  Well, I finally got my hair done, after four months (my regrowth was lovely), and I've been to the physio for my shoulder.  It hurt, and I'll have to go back lots, but at least I'm doing something about it.

Right, well you're all caught up now, and there's silence from the Bear's room.  Hopefully I wore him out at the park this morning and he'll sleep...wish me luck.

random thoughts

My dogs have fleas. Hopefully not for too much longer, since I finally bit the bullet and bought the $87 tablets. I tell you, these dogs are costing us more than the kids!

There is the sweet sound of silence coming from the Bear's room. Dare I hope that it's because he's ...shhhhh...asleep?

The Gig is at school. Hopefully not being teased, ignored, excluded, picked on, or laughed at by the group of girls who have been making her life a misery for the past 3 weeks.

I'm not doing a lot. Blogging, washing, ironing, sweeping the floor, playing with the Bear, doing his speech therapy exercises, drinking tea, eating more lunch than I needed, or even wanted (I'm greedy like that).

And the MOTH? He is no more.

Fear not, dear readers, he is still very much in the picture, but as of last night, he is no longer known as the MOTH. He says it's a stupid name, and he wants to be called something cool. So, from now on, in bloggy-land at least, he will be known as...

Pacino

As in Al.